


Unexpected, significant event

by Atanih88



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-19
Updated: 2011-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-17 02:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atanih88/pseuds/Atanih88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's down for the count and Sam plays nursemaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected, significant event

**Author's Note:**

> Written for akalillyn's [prompt](http://atanih88.livejournal.com/77698.html?thread=552322#t552322). The first part of the prompt was sort of only alluded to, (don't think it can even be spotted...) I'm not sure what this fic is lol. Un-beta'd again and it's 2.49am so my read through's probably didn't help much. (I promise to start getting it looked at beforehand!)

Sam got opened the door and slipped in. His shoulders slumped in relief as he shut it behind him. His shirt was damp from the walk to the Chinese take-away a few blocks away and it stuck to him with the smallest action.

"Hey Sam—come look at this; dude's an idiot. Think he's gonna get trampled by a rhino."

He looked up at where Dean sitting up on the bed.

Dean's had his hand cupped his left shoulder. He'd left off his shirt and hadn't bothered to do more than pull on his jeans. The gauze Sam wrapped around the shoulder earlier was still in place and over the curve of Dean's shoulder, it had gained tiny blotches the colour of dried poppies. Dean's eyes seemed a little too glazed and his face was flushed.

It was the smile on his face though, that made it clear Dean hadn't listened to a word Sam said before he'd left to get dinner. It was too soft.

Their last hunt which had taken them to New York, hadn't turned out so good. They hadn't really expected that nest of vampires. One of them had gotten a good chunk out of Dean's shoulder. It hadn't looked too pretty and probably hadn't felt much better either. They'd gotten it done but hadn't made it too far after booking it out of there. Not with Dean bitching about bleeding all over the upholstery, white faced from pain and blood loss.

Fucking vamps.

"Sam, you listening? Come see this."

Sighing, Sam pushed away from the door, made a face as the shirt clung to his back, and tried to decide if food could wait until after he'd had a shower.

He wasn't surprised to see the three empty beer bottles on the night stand between their two beds.

Sam set the Chinese down on it and rubbed a hand over his face. "Dean. I told you to lay off the booze. You can't do that when you're on meds."

Dean's attention though, was on the TV and he shrugged his good shoulder. The movement was sluggish and accompanied by a tilt of his head to the side, that Dean didn't' seem to have too much control over. "Got thirsty."

"Ever heard of water?" Another shrug. Sam turned to the TV to see what was keeping his attention, and couldn't help his startled laugh. "Dude, you're watching _Jumanji?_ "

Dean's head rolled back on his neck and he let it rest back against the wall as he looked up at Sam. His eyes narrowed a little like he was trying to bring Sam into focus. "What?"

Sam shook his head and nudged Dean's leg with his knee. "Let me take another look at that," he nodded at the bandage, "think it's coming loose."

Dean frowned, glanced back at the TV and shifted to the side. Sam to settled down on the edge, tucking one leg underneath him so he could lean over and examine his handiwork. Except when he got between Dean and the TV, Dean tried to crane his neck to get a better view.

He really didn't feel like dealing with a Dean high on beer and meds. Sam wanted a shower and his food. If Dean would just sit still, then he'd get to have them.

"Man, you gotta sit still!" Sam said and grabbed hold of Dean's uninjured shoulder.

Dean's eyes flicked back to his, startled. With the concentration of a drunk, he looked down at the hand Sam had clamped on his shoulder. And he stared at it with a slight frown that came dangerously close to a pout.

Dean sat still for it though. He didn't so much as twitch when Sam started tightening the bandages again; just closed his eyes, his mouth twisting in a grimace.

It wasn't bleeding as much as it had been. They'd probably be able to get back on the road tomorrow.

Sam opened his mouth to say so. Stopped.

The lines of pain on Dean's face and the rigidness that had returned to him while Sam had been adjusting the bandage, slipped away. His lashes were shadows of dark blond on his cheekbones and for a brief second, Sam had the urge to run his thumb over them. To see if they felt as long as they looked.

He loosened his grip on Dean's shoulder. Dean's skin felt clammy—whether a reaction to the pain or the heat, Sam wasn't sure.

Sam didn't even realise he was rubbing his thumb down the length of Dean's collarbone, in a mimic of the touch he wanted to brush over Dean's eye lashes, until Dean sucked in a shaky breath. He ducked his head, tucking his chin down a little as if to shake off the feather-soft sensation.

Dean blinked his eyes open. Sam saw that it took him a second to focus.

That same smile, the one Dean had been wearing when Sam had come in, split over his face. It made Sam swallow hard. It was something that even now, when they were doing good, Sam almost never got to see. All the other expressions, sure, but this one was rare. And it left him with the need to press closer and soak it in for as long as it lasted, before Dean remembered that he didn’t give things away like this.

Dean's hand came up to rest heavy and warm on the back of Sam's neck and he leaned in until their foreheads were touching. "Sammy." And Dean leaned the rest of the way and touched his mouth to Sam's.

It fit—so eerie in how _easy_ it fit—and Dean's lips closed around Sam's bottom one, soft and dry and clinging for the merest of seconds.

He could smell Dean. Cheap aftershave saturated in sweat and something else. Something tart and just _Dean_. His fingers, nerveless, slipped away from Dean's shoulder to hover above it.

Then Dean's shoulders started shaking and he pulled away to drop his head to Sam's shoulder, chuckling to himself.

"Dude. You stink," Dean said, voice muffled against Sam's shirt. "Go shower or something." As he said it, he pulled away. His eyes were still unnaturally bright and Sam realised that it was probably the beginning of a fever. But god his mouth—his mouth was still wearing that smile.

Dean gave Sam's shoulder a clumsy push when Sam failed to say anything, sitting there and staring at him like an idiot instead.

"Think I'm gonna nap. There better be food when I wake up, bitch." And with that, Dean settled back, the touchy-feely-ness and movie forgotten, as he closed his eyes again and wriggled into a more comfortable position.

Sam didn't bother pointing out that the food was right next to him. He got up and made his way to the shitty bathroom tucked into a corner of their motel room.

He ignored the fine tremble in his hands as he pulled the door open and then closed it behind him.

Shower. Shower first. Then he'd think about all the ways that this would blow up in their faces.

And eventually, quite a while later and without even realising it, Sam would start thinking about all the possible ways that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't.


End file.
